


Waiting Patiently

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: hot fuzz - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the one who was supposed to have been shot full of holes. He was the one who was supposed to be lying in the hospital bed. Not Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting Patiently

The shadows were lengthening as the sun slowly set outside. Inside the hospital, it was noisy, but Nicholas absently noted that it was a quiet type of noisy, the kind that came from people being busy and moving around hurriedly and not exactly from noise.

The room he was sitting in was noisy too, filled with distinctly inorganic sounds, the mechanical noise of machines whirring, pumping and ticking. All doing what was supposed to be an organic job. Keeping a human alive.

But otherwise it was silent.

A silence so heavy with expectations and words unsaid that a stranger walking in would have felt smothered by it.

Laid out in the lone bed in the room, Danny was lying, all manner of tubes hooked up to him, his entire chest swathed in bandages and small cuts all over his face and hands.

Nicholas was seated beside the bed, his chair pulled as close as he could get it, Danny's hand lying limply in his tight grip.

Nicholas Angel had lost faith in God a long time ago, when he came to the realisation that maybe God had better things to do than listen to him.

But he was praying now.

The muscles in his jaw clenched sporadically as he breathed in and out, slowly and silently, trying to keep his mind blank and his body calm. But it wasn't working. He couldn't stop his breath from catching each time he looked at Danny and saw how pale and damaged he was, the cuts and bruises sanding out starkly against pale skin.

Mute testimony to what Danny had done.

Nicholas took in a shuddering breath, his hold on Danny's hand tightening. This was all so fucking wrong. He was the one who was supposed to have been shot full of holes. He was the one who was supposed to be lying in the hospital bed. Not Danny.

Never Danny.

Danny should be up and about, back in Sandford. Laughing, making jokes and drawing his stupid flipbook comics. He should be eating his Cornettos and asking inanely annoying questions while trying to get Nicholas to go to the pub or watch another DVD with him.

His eyelid fluttered shut as his mind replayed the sight of Weaver advancing on him holding the gun. Nicholas didn't think he'd ever forget looking down that barrel and thinking that this was a pretty shitty way for things to end when suddenly there was a blur of movement and it was Danny throwing himself in front of him just as Weaver pulled the trigger. The sound of that shot would stay with Nicholas forever and he doubted that he would ever forget the sound of the slugs as they hit Danny. Shots that had been meant for him.

After that things were a blur, the explosion included but he clearly remembered how frantic he'd felt as he'd searched for Danny and kneeling next to Danny and telling him that everything would be alright. The problem was, Nicholas wasn't sure any more if things would be alright.

Now that he'd let himself succumb to the images, they played in a continuous loop, tormenting him with the knowledge that Danny was here because of him. Nicholas Angel.

His eyes shot open as he tore his hand away Danny's and he jumped out of the chair to start pacing around the room, hands raking through his short hair.

He was angry. Angry with Danny for being so fucking stupid as to throw himself in front of a gun and angry with himself for returning to Sandford. If he hadn't come back, if he had left well alone like Danny had asked him too, this wouldn't have happened. Sandford wouldn't be torn to pieces, the station would be in one piece and Danny... Danny wouldn't be lying unconscious in a hospital, riddled with bullets and blown up by a sea mine.

It was all just so fucking insane and Nicholas couldn't believe how things had spiralled out of his control.

His breathing became erratic and and his body ached from the suppressed rage he was holding in. He wanted to scream and yell and tear the room apart before the steady beeping of the machines broke into his angry haze and reality slowly reinserted itself into his mind.

Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to calm himself down, blanking his mind as he'd learnt to from so many years of controlling himself. He fought to banish the surging anger and helplessness he felt, instead focusing on the here and now.

Focusing on Danny.

Dropping back into the chair with a soft sigh, he gently took hold of Danny's hand again, centering himself with the steady heartbeat he could feel pulsing through Danny's veins.

Losing control wasn't the solution and there was no use in dwelling on the past or what ifs. The past had happened, there was nothing he could do to change that, and so he had to focus on the future. A future in which Danny Butterman and Sandford played a huge part.

With that realisation, he let go off the last remnants of the anger still simmering within him. It wasn't worth the energy and effort holding onto it. He had better things to devote that energy to.

It was fully night now, the sun had set and the moon was up, casting it's silver glow over everything. In the hospital, things had settled down and there was a muted hum as the various occupants went about their evening business.

In one of the hospital rooms, Nicholas Angel sat still and silent, eyes trained on the form of his partner laid out on the hospital bed.

Waiting patiently.

-Fin-


End file.
